


Promises

by herbailiwick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg gets a text from Sherlock, who is supposed to be dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

He'd just closed his eyes and settled in when he received a text. He sighed and rolled out of bed, walking toward the phone, which was plugged into its charger for the night. Most people called. The main person who'd always texted him had been Sherlock, not that that mattered much anymore.

Or did it? Greg rubbed at his eyes, staring at the screen of his phone as he stood.

 _Make sure he's okay. Do this for me._ Who? The only person he could think of who needed help was John.

_Please._

Greg started to ask who was texting him, though he had a nagging feeling he knew. He almost hoped it was Mycroft; that'd make sense, after all.

_You know who this is. Don't tell him I'm not dead._

Well, that settled it, then. Greg unplugged his phone, sitting heavily on his bed when he made it back across the room on shaky knees.

 _Do this for me,_ Sherlock repeated.

 ** _ok_** , said Greg

 _ **what are you doing?** _ he asked. **how are you alive?**

_Did you miss me?_

_**i did.** _

_I miss you too,_ Sherlock said.

_I'm trusting you. Do you understand that?_

**_of course. i'll take care of him. rest assured._ **

_You and I are friends. Did you know that?_ Sherlock asked.

Greg paused, narrowing his eyes at the screen. After a moment, he pressed call.

"You know I shouldn't be talking to you like this," came the annoyed voice of what should have been a dead man.

Greg breathed out a quick breath, almost feeling winded by the confirmation. "Hi, Sherlock," he said. "Hi! How'd you do it, then? John said he saw."

"He saw," Sherlock said with what must have been a smirk, "but he did not observe."

"Your brother knows, yeah? You should have just told him to watch over John. I think he's keen on him."

"Oh, he is. But John won't speak to him. He's under the impression that Mycroft betrayed my secrets to Moriarty."

"And did he?"

"Sort of. But it wasn't behind my back; I was in on it. You can keep any secret. I know you can. You'll protect John by caring for him while making sure he still doesn't know." Sherlock sighed. "Everyone else knows."

"Everyone like...Donovan?"

"No, that would be stupid. No, everyone like Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Mycroft, and now you too. Oh, and my mother."

"But John can't know? Have you seen him? Not doing well."

"Hence my texting you so late. Do keep up. He's still a prime target, even if I believe you and Mrs. Hudson are not going to be targeted much now."

"Much?" Greg paused. "Hang on. 'Much'?"

Sherlock sighed. "Moriarty had gunmen trained on you and Mrs. Hudson and John. If I didn't jump, you would have died."

"SHIT. SHIT, Sherlock. Shit!"

"Eloquently put, Lestrade. I...I want to thank you, for saying you'll look after John. I know you're jealous of him, but he's the closest friend I've ever had."

"Were you together? Are you together?"

"Not your business, inspector, but no."

Greg lay back in bed heavily. "Are you interested?"

"Not in John, no. Not like that."

He couldn't help his breath of relief. "So I'm really that obvious?"

"No, you're not obvious at all," Sherlock said breathily. "I do mean it, about missing you, about being friends. Moriarty called us friends and then...I knew it was true. Don't worry about that officer who stopped showing up, by the way. He was working for Moriarty."

"SHIT!"

"You have a filthy mouth." Sherlock paused for a long moment. "Perhaps we should phone again. I like filthy mouths."

Greg felt his jaw drop. Before he could ask for clarification, Sherlock hung up.

Greg scrubbed his hand over his face. "Aw hell," he said. It'd be hard enough hiding Sherlock from John, but even harder if he was thinking about the man and his proposition of phone sex.

"I shouldn't," Greg said to his phone. "He's right; he should be keeping a low profile."

His phone said nothing in return.

"Aw hell. I can't say no to him, can I?"

He received a text.

A single winking smiley face.

_;-)_

_**;)**  _Greg texted back.


End file.
